


Wayfarers

by BlueOnyx



Category: Jurassic Park (Movies), Jurassic Park III (2001)
Genre: Isla Sorna (Jurassic Park), M/M, Missing Scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-11
Updated: 2019-08-11
Packaged: 2020-08-19 01:00:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,806
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20201110
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlueOnyx/pseuds/BlueOnyx
Summary: "Who's Billy?""Oh." Alan's heart beat harder. He hadn't told him about Billy. So far, he had really only mentioned things Eric needed to know, but it was more than that. He was trying to avoid thinking about Billy, about wherever he was on this godforsaken island.





	Wayfarers

**Author's Note:**

> I'm coming at this from the angle that like, in the movie when Alan and Eric meet up with Billy and the Kirbys, Eric hasn't seen Billy before, but he seems to have a good enough idea of who he is. I think it's reasonable to assume that Alan had already told Eric about Billy, sometime during their encounter, we just didn't see it (because clearly whenever Alan talks about Billy, it's uhhh, pretty obvious he's in love with him).
> 
> Thank you always [Em2a](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Em2a) for the beta! <3

Alan felt a mild sense of relief after examining the canyon. Not much relief—Billy was still out there somewhere. Hopefully alive. _If he's not..._ Dread sharpened in his stomach at the thought, but he pushed that thought out of his mind and tried to focus on the here and now, to where he and Eric were going.

He had a plan, at least. That boat was their best chance to get to the coast. They needed to make good time if they were going to find a way down to it, because if Billy or the Kirbys were alive, and near enough to spot the river, they would likely have the same idea.

It'd been mostly south from the water truck, the same direction the group had been heading before they encountered the compound and got separated. Alan figured the others had been driven more to the east, and Eric's rescue had led him west, so now he and Eric needed to go southeast if they were going to have any chance of finding them, and hopefully a way down in the meantime.

Eric held on to the binoculars as they continued their trek, and only when he attempted to fit them into the pocket of his grubby InGen lab coat did Alan notice and decide to take them back again instead, since he would have an easier time carrying them. Eric hadn't brought anything with him but the clothes on his back, despite all the stuff he'd salvaged over the weeks.

"Here." He stopped and Eric handed them over promptly, and Alan returned them to his backpack.

It was odd to see, but Alan recognized what was happening. For a kid who had to rely on himself for so long, being around an adult had pulled him back into a more normal state of being. He seemed to trust Alan, and as a result, was slowly abandoning his previous survival mentality. He hadn't bothered to put his camouflage leaves back on, and was more focused on talking than evading dinosaurs. Alan couldn't blame him—there'd been no one to talk to but himself for nearly two months.

That was fine. As long as Alan kept an eye and an ear out, and they didn't make too much noise, they could pass the time that way.

Still, Eric did stop to listen every so often, undoubtedly a habit he picked up to get around unnoticed, or to be alerted if, and when, he was finally getting rescued.

"That's how I found you," he explained. "I heard a noise and went looking."

"Well, I'm grateful." There was a moment, out of the other moments over the past twenty-four hours, where Alan really thought that was it. He'd almost been stomped to death by a Tyrannosaurus, and would have if it weren't for that log, but this last time, raptors had him surrounded, with no way out, and he was certain he was about to be ripped to shreds—only to be saved by a kid.

Eric wasn't what he expected. The Kirbys had said he was smart, but Alan supposed he didn't really believe them. When he saw the photo of him, the events in the camcorder, he wasn't expecting to find anyone at all, much less a whole live kid. But to survive eight weeks, all alone on this island? Alan couldn't imagine. He had only spent a bad weekend on one—and now another, again—and had suffered more than enough trauma to last a lifetime.

But kids were resilient; that's what Ellie used to say when they talked about Lex and Tim after Isla Nublar. Eric seemed a little different—more wiley and savvy, more battle-worn, less of the wide-eyed innocence of the other two.

Almost as inquisitive, though. He'd covered the most pressing questions that Eric had, but Alan skirted around some of them. The previous night, he told him that his parents had _invited him along_; it wasn't a lie, per se, but he wasn't about to share the part where it was under false pretenses and qualified as kidnapping, and how they'd hired mercenaries, to boot. He told him about the plane crashing into the Spinosaurus as they were about to take off, but didn't say how it snatched Cooper into its maw right before their eyes, or how it dragged Nash out of the wreckage as they were helpless to stop it, or about the scream he'd heard in the distance that sounded an awful lot like Udesky.

On any day of the week, he would have said he disagreed with sugarcoating difficult facts, even for kids, but confronted with a starving twelve-year-old, looking crushed as he learned that the adults who came to rescue him were about as trapped as he was, and that they were going to have to keep working to get off this island alive. . . he didn't have the heart to pile on. Especially because his parents' illegal actions were all to save him. For now, the less Eric knew about the circumstances of their arrival on the island, the better.

Alan scanned through the underbrush in front of them. No sign of anything yet.

Eric had a much shorter stride than he did, and Alan had to remind himself to slow down every now and then, to at least try to keep side by side.

"My parents—they were fine when you saw them last, right?"

It was a question he'd already asked, only worded differently. He was clearly worried about them, and having parents like that, no wonder. But they were _his_ parents, he missed them, and Alan wasn't going to let him agitate over it if he could help it. "Yes. They were running from the raptors, of course, but hadn't been caught. I think they went in the direction Billy did, so they probably—"  
  
"Who's Billy?"

"Oh." Alan's heart beat harder. He hadn't told him about Billy. So far, he had really only mentioned things Eric needed to know, but it was more than that. He was trying to avoid thinking about Billy, about wherever he was on this godforsaken island. Alan cleared his throat, but then had to cough—maybe the effects of the gas grenades weren't completely gone. In any case, he tried to keep his voice steady as he explained, "I'm actually here, with, uh—well, your parents brought both of us with—but I'm here with my colleague, Billy Brennan. Well, more of a friend. He works with me at my dig, has for a few years, now."

Eric turned his head, and for a moment Alan felt like he was being studied. "And he's with my parents?"

"I hope so, but we all got split up. If he is, he can help them. There's no one more qualified on this island, after me." Not that there was much competition.

"So he's a paleontologist, too?"

"Yeah. He's my. . . well, he also helps me teach at Montana State University, handles a lot of things I don't want to, or have time for." Bozeman seemed a million miles away. "He almost has his degree."

Alan felt a familiar cloud of doom, one that had been casting a shadow over him for months. The dig was running low on funding as it was, and maybe when Billy got it, he'd decide to leave for greener pastures. And now _this_ happened, and if they survive it'll leave them with only some scratches and a few photos, like a bad vacation. Alan gripped Billy's bag against his hip. "This is his camera, right here. He dropped it when we were running through a herd of hadrosaurs to get away from those raptors."

It'd been with Alan the whole time, and Eric had even held it for him when Alan was getting out of the water truck, but he still gave it another look. "And you picked it up?"

Alan smiled wryly. "Wasn't the smartest thing I've ever done, I'll admit that, but this is his lucky bag. It means a lot to him."

"Huh." Eric grinned. "Why's it lucky?"

"It's saved his life before." He thought back to the plane ride, to the story Billy told him—one he'd never shared with Alan until now, though it was clearly an experience that had affected him deeply. He'd almost died in New Zealand, apparently, and Alan would have never even known him. This bag. . . he'd seen it around a few times, since Billy had his camera out often enough at the dig, but Alan supposed he'd never asked, always too busy with their work, too distracted. Maybe he hadn't stopped to notice the state it was in, but they were growing closer, and he was noticing more and more about Billy these days—his _smile_, the way he always darted his tongue out to lick his lips, the way he stared at him. Alan knew why, as much as he tried to deny it to himself.

"Is Billy in danger often?" Eric asked, after Alan had been quiet too long.

All too often, it seemed. Alan nodded. "He can be reckless sometimes, but he's competent. And he's eager. Loves paleontology. Actually, he was a lot more excited to see this island than I was."

He couldn't blame Billy for wanting to see it, after the years he must have spent wondering about InGen's creations. Even Alan was reminded again how incredible it was to see them in the flesh, a magnificence to rival what the real things must have been like—but also how deadly they could be, and how one definitely wasn't worth risking the other.

Alan hoped Billy had realized that part for himself, as well. Not that he wanted Billy to lose any of his passion for their work, the way Alan did a little after the first island, but at least now maybe he would understand him better. Understand him at last. "I just hope he's still alive. Your parents, too."

Eric stopped. "They're alive, Dr. Grant, I know it. They have to be."

"You're right." Alan looked down and smiled, letting himself buy into Eric's childish optimism for the moment. He didn't have any evidence that Billy wasn't okay, and until he did, it was useless to suffer twice with worry. "They have to be."

They continued on, and Eric dug into his pocket, pulling out a large black talon, and held it out in front of him as they walked. "Know what this is?"

Alan took it, but didn't need to examine it to know what it was. "Yeah, it's a raptor claw." He flipped it over in his hands. "I used to have one. A fossil."

So this is what he'd kept, in the end, as a souvenir. Alan handed it back.

"Mine is new."

**______________**


End file.
